


Family Reunion

by LamsLuver



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Otabek Altin is ace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 21:43:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10625712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LamsLuver/pseuds/LamsLuver
Summary: Yurio's parents had always been two sketchy, wanna-be rich people, forcing him to go to stuffy family reunions. However, he's always relied on either Victor or his grandfather to be there with him. Much to his dismay, Makkachin gives birth to puppies all the way back in Hasetsu, forcing Victor to leave, and his grandfather has to go to a much-needed dentist appointment to get some teeth pulled so he's not in pain 24/7. Both these leave Yurio alone and surrounded by soulless strangers. Is there any silver lining to this bullshit?





	

There was only one thing Yurio hated more than his greatest competitors leaving the ice to become love struck idiots and abanden him as his competition. That thing was family reunions.   
Especially when the two people he actually cared about couldn't make it.  
Viktor gave another apologetic smile to Yurio.   
"I'm sorry Yurio," he stated for the thousandth time, "Yuri and I didn't know Makkachin was pregnant and now she's having her litter and I've got to get back to Hasetsu for her." He paused for a second, halfway through folding a shirt.  
"You know I want to be there for you, Yurio," he said quietly. His blue eyes looked up at Yurio's green ones, searching for forgiveness.   
Yurio turned away. He couldn't stand the pity. He couldn't stand Viktor. And he was angry.   
He felt so deprioritized. Yuri's more important, Makkachin's more important. He needed emotional support for this reunion. He just couldn't bring himself to admit that. To anyone for that matter.  
Unable to admit his feelings, he angrily took his tiger print jacket and stood at the airport terminal with Viktor, hands shoved in his pocket. A wad of cash and the cold case of his phone rubbed against his balled up fists.   
Viktor tried for comfort one last time, giving a crushing hug to Yurio, almost breaking his shoulder blades. Yurio tensed against Viktor. He didn't want this petty bullshit.  
"I'll be back after a few days, Yurio. Call me if you need anything. Anything." Viktor pushed back from the hug, hands on Yurio's shoulders. He gave another apologetic smile.   
"If you need me Yurio," he said, "I'll be right there for you."  
He took his luggage off from the ground and ran to get to the airplane in time.  
Yurio only watched as his wool coat fluttered out behind him.  
~-~  
The next morning proved to be an even worse disaster.   
"сын," Grandpa sighed. "They can't schedule my appointment for any other time. The next opening would be in 3 months, and my teeth have just been putting me in so much pain."  
Yurio wanted to scream. Forcing himself to be calm, he answered his grandfather. "I understand, Дед." His grandpa started to thank him. "Yurio, thank you for being so understanding. It's just been-"  
"Are you sure you can't make it?" Even to Yurio, his voice sounded whiny and childish. It was too needy, filled with clinginess. But he wanted at least one support system while he was meeting with his deadbeat divorcees of parents.   
"Yurio." Grandpa's voiced turned sharp. "Yurio," he repeated, his voice softening as he pleaded. "Please, внук, I am in so much pain. I can hardly sleep at night-"  
"I get it, grandpa," Yurio interrupted before he could feel any guiltier. "Good luck at your appointment." He brought the phone down from his ear and pressed the red button without even waiting to hear what else had to be said.  
Not like it would change anything.  
~-~  
Yurio squirmed uncomfortably in his suit.   
"How much longer?" he complained to the driver, no longer caring how childlish he sounded.  
"Only ten more minutes," the driver patiently answered. Yurio yuffed but stayed silent, looking out the window. This year, the reunion was at his paternal grandmother's estate. The rolling fields of green were dappled with hues of white and purple. Even some sunflowers had popped up to try and make the day brighter. Granite walls lined the driveway, which apparently took 10 minutes to drive on. On occasion, tall, white fences would obscure the natural beauties of the hills. Yurio couldn't see what was behind it, but he almost always saw what he thought was gold.  
His stomach churned as he saw a delicate "Welcome" sign adorned with flowers. He forced himself to take a deep breath before he threw up in the backseat.  
The car slowed down to a stop.  
"Your destination, sir," the driver announced. Yurio mumbled out a quick, "Thanks," before opening the door. A wave of fresh air hit him as the sunshine beat down on his pale skin. His fingers started to tremble as his slammed the door shut. It sounded like a gunshot, almost making him flinch.  
Forcing himself to keep his composure, he walked up the marble steps of the house, and gave the oak doors a single push. Bright lights twinkled in his vision as he entered the main hall. Servants dressed in red velvet floated amongst the well dressed guests, all who happened to be his family.  
"Lemonade?" one girl asked, the edge of her velvet skirt brushing against his knees. Beneath the makeup, he could see she was sweating. It was probably hot as hell in velvet.   
"No thank you," he declined. She continued smiling and walked towards another guest. Yurio started to move toward the corner of the hall when he heard a female voice shouting his name.  
"Yuri!" He froze in place. There was a beat of silence as Yurio didn't move. He blinked, unfreezing himself, and turning to the person who called him.   
His mother didn't look any different from when he last saw her. She was walking toward him with the same fake smile. Her red lipstick was gauzy and her dress looked like it was from the sketchy section of a Halloween store (Yurio knew that from experience.) He crossed his arms across his chest, not in the mood to fake being happy.  
"Hi mom," he muttered. He despised calling her mom. Moms didn't leave their son behind because their husband refused to move to a new location to start another business failure.   
"Oh honey, don't look so sad!" she gushed, her black gloved finger wrapping around his arm. "You're usually so happy!" He fixed her with an utterly disgusted look. This hag didn't know the first thing about him.  
"You know, you're letting your hair grow out much too long." Her fingers yanked through Yurio's shoulder length hair. He batted her hand away, feeling goosebumps pop up on his neck. She giggled, the noise sounding harsh in Yurio's ears. He had to get away from this weasly old bitch. If only-  
The oak doors creaked open again. This time, a modernly dressed man stepped through the door. His peppered hair curled around his ears and his blue eyes screamed for revenge. Neon green tennis shoes glared up at the guests. His outfit was made of mismatched shades of bright yellow.  
Yurio's mother's green eyes glared at the incomer. Her ex-husband.   
Aka, Yurio's father.   
"Maksimillian. Fancy seeing you around here," his mother stated coldly. He gave her the most evil grin Yurio had ever seen.  
"Natasha," he greeted. Blue had never seemed like such a menacing color until now. "How's the family?" He strutted through the hall, his voice ringing out of the corners. Shithead, he thought bitterly. His father sauntered right up to his mom, who was glaring at him this whole time. She forced a fake smile on her face.   
"The family's great, thank you for asking." Neither of them added onto that statement, staying in their stalemate position. Mak's eyes flicked to the side, catching sight of Yurio.  
"My сын!" he exclaimed, pulling Yurio in for a hug. "How's everything in your life?" The overwhelming scent of cologne almost drowned him.   
"Fine." Yurio pushed him away.   
Mak pouted. "Does my son not want to see me?"  
Yurio glared at him. "I didn't make the decision to leave you when I was 5."  
Silence fell in the room. Apparently, the other guests had been listening into the conversation.   
Mak just clicked his tongue. "Yuri, Yuri, Yuri," he admonished. "You can thank your mother for that one."  
"Here we go again," someone in the crowd mumbled.   
Something dangerous lit up Natasha's eyes.  
"I'm sorry for trying to start up a business, Mak." She spat out his name like poison.   
He laughed, even crueler than hers. "Darling, you should have known from your previous 'businesses' this was destined to fail! Besides," he smirked, "does a beauty salon really count as a business or as a place where wannabe models slather themselves in makeup to look prettier?"  
"I think you could use a trip to the salon, honey."  
"I think you could use a trip to the insane asylum."  
"Oh wow, you're going to bring up your home now? It's rather rude to talk about your house uninvited." Mak's face twitched, for just a brief second.  
"Well at least-" He was interrupted before he could retort.  
"DINNER!" Yurio's grandmother screeched. Her wispy, white hair was falling out of a bun and her black dress dragged onto the floor. Her face was so wrinkled you couldn't see her eyes, but her voice was as loud as day.   
"DINNER EVERYONE DINNER!"  
Mak grabbed Yurio's arm, starting to pull him towards the dining room.  
"Come on, сын," he spat, giving a withering glare to Natasha. "Let's try to find some decent company."  
Yurio hoped he didn't throw up on anyone during the dinner.  
He found it was a little hard, especially when his parents spent the whole time boring into each other's eyes. It's like they were trying to search into each other's souls for a sinful record.   
He carefully took another bite into his piroshki, wishing that he didn't exist. If only he had some escape from this-  
His phone buzzed.   
It went unheard by everyone else, but he felt it vibrate against his pant leg.   
He glanced around. All the other diners were in their own world of gossip. No one would notice him if he snuck out.  
Yurio cleared his throat awkwardly.  
"I'm going to go to the bathroom," he announced, pushing his chair out as he stood up.  
Natasha jerked out of her staring contest. Her smile came back to her face, showing all her pearly white teeth.  
"It's the second hallway, third door, сын," she offered. Yurio hardly waited for her to finish her instructions before briskly walking out of the dining room.   
After going into the third hallway (and almost walking straight into a closet), he found the bathroom. The door lock snapped shut as Yurio whipped out his phone, tapping in his password quicker than lightning.   
Messages from Viktor popped onto the screen.  
Yurio felt strangely disappointed.  
He didn't know why, but he was expecting texts from Otabek. He and Otabek had been talking quite frequently since he helped Yurio escape from the crazed fangirls chasing him.  
Disappointment weighing on his stomach, he read Viktor's messages.  
Viktor: I made it safely. Makkachin is still in labour. 6:24  
Viktor: Makka had 7 puppies!!! 7:03  
Viktor: [picture of an exhausted Makkachin with 7 tiny balls of pink]  
Viktor: Is everything okay Yuri? 8:31  
Viktor: I'm going to go to sleep, but call me if you need anything 10:56  
Viktor: Good morning Yurio! Feeling okay? 9:39  
Viktor: Yurio? 10:52  
Viktor: Yurio?? 11:32  
Viktor: Call if you need anything!! 12:42  
Viktor: Hope everything is going well 5:52  
Yurio scrolled through the messages half-heartedly. He knew Viktor would be happier if Yurio texted him back but that included lying and saying that he felt fine.  
Or worse, admitting that he felt like a piece of shit with two piece of shit parents making for a whiny, son of a bitch son.  
He got used for such a tool sometimes.  
Eventually, he decided against texting Viktor. He did want to spend some quality time alone, he just didn't know who to text. He scrolled idly through his contacts.  
Chris? Hell no. He'd only text Chris if 911 stopped working and all the other contacts had been deleted from his phone.  
Grandpa? Yurio felt his heart clench. His throat constricted as he forced himself to take another steadying breath. It was enough to push the tears back into his eyes. How he longed for his grandfather to come save him. With a painful swipe, Yurio kept scrolling.  
Phichit? How the fuck did he get Phichit's number???  
Otabek? Yurio stopped scrolling. The name looked up at him. Otabek.   
With shaky fingers, Yurio tapped out a text message to Otabek.  
Yurio: Hi   
He held his breath, waiting for a response. A second passed. Then two. Then ten. After 15, he started to wonder if Otabek was even-  
Otabek: Hey Yuri  
His heart stopped. Otabek was on. Tears of joy threatened to spill out of his eyes, but he refused to cry.  
Yurio: Oh thank god you're on  
Otabek: Why?   
Otabek: Did something bad happen?  
Yurio: Kind of  
Yurio: Family reunion  
Otabek: :/  
Otabek: What's happening?  
Yurio: Just parent shit  
Otabek: Are you allowed to leave?  
Yurio: I'm allowed to do whatever the fuck I want   
Otabek: There's my sweet Yuri   
Yurio sharply inhaled breath. My? His heart was beating wildly in his chest. He allowed himself to sink against the bathroom door, enjoying his conversation.  
Yurio: Idk if they'd let me go though  
Yurio: Like my parents are almost fighting over me but they don't really care ??  
Yurio: I'm not sure how to describe it  
Otabek: Yuri, are you sure you're ok?  
He frowned at his phone. Otabek seemed really concerned.  
Yurio: I mean, I feel like shit, but it's not like this is going to get any better  
Otabek: I can pick you up, if you need  
A flare of panic surged through Yurio. He didn't know why but the prospect of Otabek picking him up almost scared him to death. Maybe he was terrified that Otabek would see him shaky and upset and then he'd have to spill his emotions but he'd spill them all wrong and-  
Subconsciously thinking, he wrote out a quick lie  
Yurio: It's ok viktor can pick me up  
Otabek: You're in Hasetsu?  
Otabek: I thought you were still in Russia  
Yurio scrambled for a cover story.  
Otabek: Seriously, are you okay?  
Otabek: I'm getting a little worried  
Yurio: I'm fine mom jeez  
Yurio: How do you know Viktor's in Hasetsu?  
A few seconds passed.   
Yurio: Otabek?  
Otabek: I texted Viktor, he said you're in Russia  
Otabek: Yuri, what's wrong?  
Otabek: You can tell me  
Panic was replaced with anger. Who gave him the right to jab into Yurio's emotions?  
Yurio: No I cant  
Otabek: Are they abusing you?  
The question caught Yurio off guard.  
Yurio: What? No  
Yurio: They're not that crazy  
Otabek: Are you sure?  
Yurio: I think I would know if my parents were trying to beat me  
Otabek: They could be verbally abusing you  
Yurio: I don't want to talk about it  
Yurio: Bye Otabek  
He angrily shoved his phone back into his pocket, throwing the bathroom door open.   
He hoped he didn't look too red.  
The walk back to the dining hall helped cool him off, but only a little bit.  
Desert was now being passed out, decadent layers of cake and creme brulee but Yurio didn't care for it.   
Natasha caught sight of Yurio first. "Honey, you're back!" she gushed. "Feeling okay?"  
"Yeah." Yurio refused to say more. He couldn't stand anyone else prodding into his emotions.  
Yurio's grandmother came up next to him.   
"LET'S GO INTO THE LIVING ROOM EVERYONE!" she screeched again, making Yurio flinch at the sudden loudness of her voice. "INTO THE LIVING ROOM!" Guest shuffled their way into the living room, finding places to sit in ornate seats. Yurio managed to scramble away from his parents and get an end seat right next to his grandma. Although he didn't particularly like her, it was better than dealing with those two. One of his uncle's sauntered up to the front of the room, his red bowtie standing bright against his gray suit and white dress shirt.   
He fixed the crowd with a dazzling smile, that closely resembled Natasha's.   
"How is everyone this lovely afternoon?" Yurio felt his annoyance rise as the crowd gave an eloquent array of "very well" and "very good."   
"Wonderful!" he exclaimed. "Now, as you all know, I have been chosen to lead the 'Conversation Starter' section of our evening!" Who the fuck has a conversaton starter bullshit event at a reunion?! Yurio thought. He crossed his arms over his chest.  
"Per the year, we have different issues that we talk about! Last year, we talked about chocolate chip cookies versus oatmeal raisin cookies." Laughter sprinkled the audience. "Oatmeal raisin cookies won, of course." He fixed the crowd with a wink.  
"This year, I have heard some very interesting ideas but one stood out to me." The audience leaned forward in their seat, eager to hear.   
"I have chosen..." he paused, head high in the air, chin pointing almost to the ceiling.  
"The so-called LGBT community."   
You know in books where the character feels the blood leave their body?  
Yurio felt every single blood cell in his body drain down into his feet. Every. Single. One. Clammy skin clung to his face as shivered in his suit. A series of "ughs" were passed through the audience. Not a single person seemed to approve of LGBT rights.   
"As we know, this is becoming a serious issue. Far too many important people have started to accept these monsters into their hearts." The only monsters are you, you bastards, Yurio thought.  
"These people," he said, "are in a conspiracy!" People in the crowd started to agree.   
"They're here only to destroy us! If we let gays in our homes, they will take the precious chastity and innocence of our young ones and steal it!"  
"These people," he went on, "are going to ruin us!" The crowd cheered a little louder. "If we allow our precious Russia to be tainted with their blood, we will be destroyed! I say that we-"  
He never finished his statement.  
Because a certain someone burst through the doors.  
Otabek stood at the doorway, with his motorcycle helmet still on his head. His leather jacket clashed greatly with the delicate velvet the servants were wearing.  
Yurio's uncle twirled around, shocked. The crowd stared at the newcomer, slack jawed.   
"Sir?" the same girl that had offered me lemonade walked up to him. "May I take your jacket?" Otabek looked at her for a second, confused. And then, "Oh. Yes, thank you." He shrugged his jacket off and handed it to her.   
The crowd gaped. (Or at least, a few of the teenage girls in the crowd.)  
Otabek was wearing a striped tank top that only had an inch of cloth for the sleeves. His biceps were on full display.  
Along with the tattoo on them.   
Yurio gaped at him. How had he never noticed? Had Otabek always been wearing a shirt long enough to cover his tattoos?  
The asexual flag stood out against Otabek's light brown skin. Pink, purple, and blue colors bordered the flag.  
Yurio's uncle looked startled. He blinked a few times, before regaining his composure, plastering on a fake smile.  
"Sir?" he asked, voice dripping with false kindness. "Who are you?"  
Otabek looked at him with a hard look.  
"Otabek." Without waiting for more of an explanation. "Do you now where Yuri is?"  
Yurio's uncle gave an even bigger smile.   
"May I ask you a question?"  
Otabek answered firmly. "No."  
Yurio's uncle ignored him. "What are those tattoos on your arm?" Otabek glanced down at his biceps, a slight frown on his face.  
"That's an asexual flag with a bisexual flag border. Where's Yuri?" Otabek looked annoyed with the hold up.  
My heartbeat sped up as I tried to sit a little taller.   
My uncle, on the other hand, was flabbergasted. "And what does that all mean?"  
Otabek fixed a stern look onto my uncle. He studied him for a second before responding.  
"That means I'm gay." Some of the guests gasped, but Otabek ignored them, stepping forward. "Where's. Yuri."  
Yurio decided to stand up.   
"Otabek?" he asked. The crowd turned to him, equal parts disgusted and shocked.   
Otabek reacted much differently. He seemed relieved, his shoulder relaxing as he walked over to Yuri. His strides got faster and faster until Otabek was nose to nose with Yuri. Bek's hands gripped Yuri's shoulders, his breath sped up.  
"Yuri," Otabek asked, eyes turning somewhat frantic. "Are you okay?"  
Yurio stared at him. No! he wanted to scream. I'm not okay! I'm horrible. I'm awful. I can't even fucking express it. He wanted to scream and then cry and cry and cry until his skin was wrinkled from his tears.  
Instead, he swallowed and choked out a "Yeah."  
Otabek set one palm against Yurio's back, leading him out. On the way, the servant girl held out his jacket. He took it from her hands gently, draping it over his forearm.  
"Thank you...?" he paused at the end, waiting to hear her name.  
She looked at him, confused at first.   
"Oh!" she exclaimed, blushing. "Emily."  
"Thank you, Emily," Otabek answered. He led Yurio down the stairs of the hall, leaving a flurry of questioning guests in his wake.   
Yurio felt numb. He didn't know if he should be upset that Otabek stalked him or grateful that he was rescued.   
Beka handed him a motorcycle helmet. Yurio put it on his head, snapping the buckle together. With one effortless gesture, Otabek shrugged his jacket back on. He straddled the motorcycle, looking back at Yuri.  
"You ready?" he asked him over the engine. Yurio simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak.   
His finger clung onto the motorcycle seat as they sped off into the darkening day.  
~-~  
Yurio started off the ride clinging onto the motorcycle seat, but felt himself inching forward. His hands were right by Otabek's thighs when he noticed he'd been slipping forward. A blush burned on his cheeks as he moved back. However, in the middle of sliding his hands back, Otabek reached out behind him to grab Yurio's hand. Without a word, he placed it on his abdomen.   
Yurio was 120% sure he was redder than a tomato and hotter than a volcano. Begrudgingly, he brought his other hand to clasp them right on Otabek's stomach. His cheek rested against Beka's leather jacket and, for the first time that week, he felt properly prioritized.  
~-~  
They ended up in Otabek's apartment. It was a cozy little apartment with a kitchen to the side, a few chairs and a TV for a living room, and two side doors Yurio assumed were a bedroom and bathroom.   
Otabek filled a kettle with water, then started up the stove. Yurio took a seat at the counter. The soft whisper of flames was the only noise in the apartment.  
"Do you want to talk?" Otabek's voice was quiet, but startling. Yurio looked up.   
His throat still felt closed up, his emotions raw. He didn't want to break down in front of anyone.  
"No." Yurio wished his voice was stronger, but it cracked at the end. Otabek looked at him. Yurio felt his stare on his forehead, but kept looking at the counter tiles.  
"Yuri." Beka's voice was so damn soft and caring. He put so much reverence into two syllables, so much appreciation, and Yuri just wanted to squeeze him into a hug and sob into his shoulder.  
Warm fingers intertwined with Yurio's cold ones. Yurio looked up to see Otabek's worried eyes. He'd seen the same look on Viktor and Yuri but it felt so much different this time.  
"Yuri," Otabek gently stated, "I'm here for you."  
That pulled the last straw for Yurio.   
Sobs started to rip themselves from his throat as tears burned down the sides of his face. It started quietly and contained, but turned into a ragged monster. His breath turned ragged and painful, odd intervals of sucking in breath and shakily letting it go. Snot started to run from his noise as his lungs drearily expanded and tightened at the same time. He sounded horrible. He sounded broken and lost and terrified and emotional.   
Every emotion he held in since the day he became his own family, the only family he could trust, crashed down on him and he bawled. More tears fell, spilling onto the counter. For a second, Otabek's hand let go of Yurio's. Yurio looked up through his tears, his blurry vision seeing an even blurrier Otabek. Bek's hand rested on Yurio's back.  
Yurio almost launched himself at Otabek, his arms wrapping around Otabek's waist. His hands clenched the back of Bek's shirt as he let himself sob into his shoulders. Otabek's free arm wrapped around Yurio's shoulder as he let the smaller teen sob openly.  
At first, it felt horrible. Yurio felt childlish and stupid and dumb and worthless. He was just in pain and couldn't get out of it. But every time he tried to steady his breathing, a new wave of demonic sobs would wrench the breath out of him and unleash more tears. After about 10 minutes, a sharp whistle sounded through the air. Tears still dripping down his cheeks and his chin, Yurio shakily peeled himself off of Otabek. The taller man leaned over the counter and quickly turned off the hot water, his hand never leaving Yurio's back. Yurio felt his muscle shake underneath the strain of keeping his sobs in. As quick as he left, Otabek returned to his standing position. His free hand set itself onto Yurio's other shoulder.   
Yurio leaned forward a bit, the tip of his forehead resting against Otabek's shoulder.  
He gasped for air as he tried to maintain even breathing.  
"Yurio," Otabek mumbled. "It's ok to cry."  
And so Yurio fufilled his dreams. He cried and cried and cried into Otabek's shoulder. He used over 30 tissues on his snotty nose and completely drenched the front part of Bek's shirt. He sobbed and fought for air. He felt pain run through him and almost got swallowed by it but felt a sweet release in the hot tears running down his cheeks and Otabek's fingers running through Yurio's hair. Eventually, after who knows how many minutes, Yurio's breath stayed steady. He took deep breaths in the crook of Otabek's shoulder, inhaling his comforting scent of laundry detergent and lavender.   
After a while, Yurio gently pushed himself back up into a sitting position on the stool, his hands resting onto Otabek's shoulers. Otabek didn't stop stroking his hair.  
Yurio took another deep inhale.  
"Do you feel better?" Otabek asked, voice laced with concern. Yurio nodded.  
"Yeah," he choked out, throat raw with emotion. He took another, shakier breath. "Yeah. I'm good."   
And this time, he honestly meant it.


End file.
